


Next Somebody

by ohnojustimagine



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Other, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24001117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnojustimagine/pseuds/ohnojustimagine
Summary: Candice and Johnny know what they deserve.
Relationships: Johnny Gargano/Candice LeRae/Original Female Character
Kudos: 6





	Next Somebody

You’ve been friendly with the two of them for a while now, and maybe you’ve always kind of vaguely thought they’re both really hot, but that’s not the kind of thing you dwell on when you’re friends with a married couple. And they’ve changed lately, you know that, but you still don’t think anything of it when they invite you over for dinner.

You sit around the table, and they make a joke of the cup still there in its glass case like some kind of weirdly surreal centerpiece, and when you laugh, Candice refills your wine glass, _again_. You see them _look_ at each other, smiling, something communicated between them so very clearly that you don’t even have to ask what it is.

Because you’re going to say yes, of course you are, but still, you think, you want them to take the lead, and so you don’t say anything, drinking your wine.

After dinner the three of you sit on the couch, talking, laughing some more, and you’re just drunk enough to be comfortable, your body a little loose in a way that feels _really_ nice, and when Candice shifts closer, leans in and kisses you, you’re not surprised.

And so you kiss her back, her lips tasting sweet, dark lipstick smearing as her tongue licks into your mouth, exploring, then asking for more. She gets one arm around you, and when you open your eyes you can see Johnny watching, something like hunger in his gaze.

“Bedroom?” he asks, and he’s not talking to you.

“Yeah,” Candice says.

-

By the time you take your clothes off they’re already fucking, Johnny on top of Candice, her legs wrapped around him, his ass flexing as he thrusts into her, making her moan.

And maybe, you think, you’re just supposed to watch, maybe they just want an audience, and you can do that, kneeling beside them on the bed, one hand between your legs, touching yourself.

The connection between them is so strong you can almost _feel_ it, the intensity and intimacy of it seeming to fill the room and you almost want to back away a little, wondering if you should give them some space, but then they stop, both looking over at you.

And they move, separating, and Candice pushes you down onto the bed, grabbing your wrists, pinning them down while Johnny straddles your chest, kneeling up, his cock right _there_ , still glistening with Candice’s wetness.

You raise your head, licking your lips, wanting to taste it, but he shifts out of your reach. 

“No,” he tells you. “You don’t get that.”

And you whine, frustrated, squirming in Candice’s grasp just so she’ll hold you down harder, her hands tightening on you, even stronger than you thought. “I think she likes it,” Johnny says, and Candice smiles.

“Is that what you get off on?” she asks. “Being denied?”

You don’t answer, but you blush, closing your eyes for moment and they both laugh, but then Johnny starts to stroke himself. You can’t stop staring at his cock, the way his hand moves on it, faster and faster until he comes, all over your chest, streaks of white falling warm onto your skin. “Yeah, baby,” Candice murmurs, letting you go, bending to lick off your breasts. Her tongue is slick and hot, swiping up Johnny’s come, swallowing it down, and when she’s done, she sucks on your nipples, hard enough to make them extra sensitive, making you cry out when she bites you, teeth suddenly sharp. 

You’re panting as she kisses you, again, the taste of come still lingering in her mouth, and then she lies back, pulling you over, guiding your head down between her legs, opening them wide.

She’s so, _so_ wet, and you breathe in, the scent of her like something heady and sweet, making your own need throb urgent inside you.

“Come on,” she urges, impatient.

You look up at her, and though you suspect you might pay for it later, you can’t resist the sly dig, saying, “I thought you said _you_ were going to eat first from now on?”

She stares at you for a second, as if puzzled, but then it clicks, and a slow, wide grin lights up her face. “I also said I was going to take what I deserved,” she tells you, her hand in your hair, arching up her hips as she pulls your face into her. “And _this_ is what I deserve,” she says, sighing at the first stroke of your tongue.


End file.
